


Present to Past and Back Again

by YumYumPM



Category: The Invisible Man (TV 1975), The Man From U.N.C.L.E., The Protectors (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumYumPM/pseuds/YumYumPM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What became of our two favorite agents after the series ended? Another possible scenario following the actors career choices.  A triple crossover, with U.N.C.L.E, the Protectors, and The Invisible Man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Present to Past and Back Again

**Author's Note:**

> The Man From UNCLE ended in 1968. Robert Vaughn went on in 1972 to star as Harry Rule in an English series called The Protector (Three inexplicably affluent international private detectives/troubleshooters who were charged with ensuring the protection of innocents. They belonged to an organization called The Protectors and were based in London. Harry led the group. The Contessa lived in Italy (when she wasn't working with Harry). She ran her own detective agency that specialized in exposing art frauds and recovering stolen art. Paul Buchet worked out of Paris, and was the group's researcher and gadget specialist. Adventures ranged from simple kidnapping to convoluted cases of international intrigue.)  
> David McCallum when on to star as Daniel Weston in a 1975 series called The Invisible Man (Inspired by the original novel by H.G. Wells, the pilot film depicts Westin working for a company called Klae Corporation, which is doing experiments in molecular disintegration and discovers its side effect of turning objects invisible. He first does successful experiments on animals, and tries to find medical applications for his invention. Objects that are invisible reappear after a few hours, and on animals the objects they wear appear before the cells themselves. )

The man who had been Napoleon Solo woke up, his eyes blinking as comprehension sank in. Damn, he’d done it again. 

There he lay as naked as the day he was born and beside him lay the creature of his undoing. After all the precautions he had taken, the temptation had been too great.

1970

That was the year he turned 40 and everything changed. No longer allowed to work in the field, Napoleon Solo had been expected to fill Alexander Waverly’s shoes. He wouldn’t have minded so much, he was damn sure he wouldn’t miss the drugs or the bullets, but his friend and partner of the last ten years still had two more years in the field. Two years without Napoleon to back him up.

He had managed to hold out for six months, and then he couldn’t take it anymore so he left. Napoleon Solo tendered his resignation and disappeared without a trace.

Changing his name, he roamed the world and eventually ended up in England. There he met and married the mother of his son, only to have her divorce him after a few brief years. Not that he begrudged her. He completely understood. After all, his current lifestyle was no more conducive to a happy home life than his previous one had been.

In 1972, as Harry Rule, he had let his hair grow and changed the part to the other side. Then, bored with not having anything exciting to do, he started up The Protectors which consisted of three freelance troubleshooters who ran an international crime-fighting agency based in London. Harry was the leader of the group. The Contessa Caroline di Contini lived in Italy and when she wasn't working with Harry, ran her own detective agency that specialized in exposing art frauds and recovering stolen art. Paul Buchet worked out of Paris and was the group's researcher and gadget specialist.

He had done well, even though it had cost him his marriage, making more than enough money to buy whatever he wanted. That included owning a very nice flat, any number of female acquaintances to help while away the nights. Things were not much different from his life in New York, except he now had a personal assistant named Suki and was the proud owner of a large shaggy dog.

Present 1975

Now, today-last night-his past and his present had collided. The Protectors had been hired to keep an eye on a bunch of important scientists from several nations that were attending a symposium being held in London.

Rule had been out of the country and Paul Buchet was bringing him up to speed on the assignment when he spotted him. Blond hair that was much longer than usual and those eyes, nothing could ever change those eyes, or so Harry thought.

Paul heard a sharp intake of breath from Rule and followed the man’s gaze to the couple standing across the crowded room. Flipping through his notes he recited, “Dr. Daniel Westin, currently working as head researcher for something called The Klae Corporation…degree in…”

“Quantum Mechanics.” Harry finished for him, his eyes still on the couple across the way.

Paul looked at Rule with surprise. “How did you know?” 

 

Paul continued, “The woman with him is his wife Kate Westin. Also a researcher for the Klae Foundation.”

Rule turned a surprised look to Paul. “His wife?”

At that moment, those familiar blue eyes had caught his and he seriously considered running away. Frozen, he watched as Westin turned to his wife and whispered something into her ear. 

The next thing he knew Westin was standing in front of him. Rule, unable to take his eyes off of him, spoke to his associate, “We can finish this later, Paul.”

Paul looked from one man to the other, knowing that something was going on but unable to draw any conclusions, and proceeded to fade into the background.

“Hello, Napoleon.” The Russian's accent was more English then before and thankfully there was no accusation in the blue eyes.

“Illya.” The name stuck in his throat.

“It has been a while.” An understatement.

“Yes.” Rule didn’t have breath to say more.

“Not your usual repartee." Westin was clearly amused. "Why don’t we go somewhere private where we can talk?” 

“Won’t you be missed?” Rule nodded toward Mrs. Westin.

“No." Westin laughed softly. "She is very understanding and I have a lot to tell you.” Westin took Rule by the arm and led him out of the room, out of the building.

They had ended up here, in Rule’s flat. Giving his overcoat to Suki, his Asian housekeeper, Rule suggested, “Suki, why don’t you take the weekend off?”

“As you wish, Mr. Rule,” Suki answered meekly, not questioning the order, as she bowed then left to pack for the weekend.

“Nice,” Westin remarked, his eyes followed the lovely woman.

Rule caught the meaning behind the observation. “It’s nothing like that. Suki cooks, cleans, and picks a mean lock.” 

“I see you have finally found a replacement for me.” Westin sounded amused.

“No,” Rule responded curtly, nobody could ever replace the Russian. He moved toward the bar to pour drinks. “Still vodka?”

“For old time’s sake, yes please,” Westin replied. The two men sat down in chairs opposite each other. Each stared into their glass, the silence between them grew unnerving. “I shall go first, shall I?”

Rule nodded.

“After you left...I found myself at loose ends. Being an enforcement agent more-or-less lost its charms. So I decided to go the scientific route. I changed my name and went to work for the Klae Foundation. That is where I met…my wife. We work very well together. Almost as good as you and I did.” His smile was apologetic. “Now why don't you tell me what you have been up to?”

“Well, I traveled for a while. Then I got married. Have a son,” Rule offered before taking a sip of his drink.

Westin raised a brow as he looked around the sumptuously furnished bachelor pad.

“We’re divorced.”

“Napoleon, I am sorry to hear that.” Westin looked into his glass.

Rule dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand. “Then I came here and started my own agency…The Protectors. We were hired to protect you.”

“We?”

“There is Paul Buchet, whom you’ve met and the Contessa Caroline di Contini.”

Westin shook his head. “A Contessa, how could I ever compete with that." He paused before continuing. "Tell me, Napoleon, do you ever miss…us?”

“What do you think?” The answer came softly.

After several minutes of silence, Westin forged ahead. “Napoleon, there is something I need to tell you…no show you.”

Westin stood up and removed the mask and wig that covered his face. “I am afraid there was a little accident, with my research,” he said lightly.

Astonished was not the word for it, as Rule watched Westin remove all his clothing and saw…nothing. “Good grief, Illya, what happened to you?” Rule exclaimed as he got up and using his hands searched for his former partner.

A voice out of nowhere explained, “I was working on a teleportation device and accidentally stumbled across a way to make people invisible.”

Following the voice, Rule’s hands made contact and he laughed. “You really are…invisible?”

“Yes, unfortunately the people funding my research turned out to be the military,” Westin continued. “I couldn’t give them the secret, Napoleon. Think about it…an invisible army. I just…could not do it.”

“You can change back, right?” Rule asked anxiously, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“No.” Westin paused. “I destroyed everything. I am working to recreate the effect, but it could take years.”

“I don’t believe this,” Rule muttered to himself.

“In the mean time, I do a little spying on the side for the Klae Foundation. It was the only way to get the funding I need to fix the problem,” Westin went on.

Rule’s hands were exploring the form he could not see. He could feel a naked body under his fingers, as well as a familiar bulge in the lower regions. Invisible hands guided him toward the bedroom. Laughter emerged from thin air, as invisible hands removed his clothing, pushing him down on the bed. 

“The look on your face,” Illya’s voice spoke with amusement before an invisible mouth descended on his aroused cock, driving him to the brink and beyond.

Being made love to by someone you could not see was the most erotic experience Napoleon could ever remember having. Reciprocating had not been easy; it was like being a blind man. Rule had had to use his hands to explore and pleasure the body next to him throughout the rest of the day and far into the night.

Rule felt a weight upon his shoulder, and knew without looking that blue eyes would have been turned his way if not for their invisibility. “So what do we do now?” Harry asked.

“I could come to London three or four times a year. You could come to California,” Illya’s voice suggested.

“As simple as that? What about your wife?”

“As I said, she is very understanding.”

Napoleon smiled. At just that moment a key was opening the door to Rule’s abode. The Contessa breezed through the house calling, “Harry.” She patted the dog who greeted her before going on to Harry’s bedroom. “Oh, there you are.” Her first thought was that something very strange was going on, Harry was not wearing his pajamas.

“Caroline,” Rule said as calmly as he could considering the situation. To be caught in bed with another man by his associate was embarrassing. Then he remembered she couldn’t see the scientist. “Turn around please,” he requested as he slid out from under his former partner and grabbed a robe.

The Contessa left the room and searched looking for signs of the woman she assumed had spent the night. 

Tying his robe closely around him, Harry exited the bedroom, noting out of the corner of his eye that an invisible foot was sweeping away the clothing left scattered on the floor of the living room, hiding them from prying eyes. “What brings you here, Caroline?” he asked.

“Oh, I just wanted to check in with you. Paul said you left rather suddenly yesterday,” Caroline answered.

“Well, I knew everything was in good hands and that I wouldn’t be needed,” Rule replied smoothly.

“It’s odd. I hear Dr. Westin also disappeared around the same time.” 

“Ah.” Invisible lips were caressing the back of his neck. “You think he has been kidnapped?”

“No,” the Contessa answered her mind clearly on other matters as her eyes roamed around the room. “His wife insists he is with an old friend.”

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“There isn’t any.” The Contessa laughed.

“Then why don’t you go back to the hotel and make sure it continues to stay that way.” Rule took the Contessa by the arm and escorted her out the door. “Goodbye, Caroline,” he called before leaning against the locked door and heaving a sigh of relief.

Laughter drifted from nearby as invisible hands untied his robe and an invisible mouth once again claimed his limp cock bringing him to arousal in no time flat. Looking down he could feel his cock encased in a wet warm mouth, but couldn’t see it. It made for a very strange sight indeed watching his cock disappear into nothingness. Moaning from the sensation, he soon exploded. Weak from the orgasm that overtook him, Harry murmured, “You crazy Russian. You’ll be the death of me yet.”

“Not until you have finished with me,” Westin said as he took Rule’s hand and placed it on his own invisible cock.

Rule was surprised at how accustomed to it he was getting, as he pumped a cock he couldn’t see. It wasn’t long before pearl white cream covered his hand. “What the…”

“Oh I forgot to tell you, whatever goes into my body turns invisible. When it leaves my body it becomes visible again,” Westin explained.

“Hmm, what say we do some experimentation on exactly what types of things we can turn invisible?” Rule asked thoughtfully.

“What sort of things did you have in mind?” Westin’s curious voice murmured.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rule said looking down at his cock that was coming back to life.

Laugher greeted his ears as he was dragged back into the bedroom by invisible hands.

 

Kate Westin put down the magazine she’d been pretending to read for the better part of the morning. The door to their suite was opening to admit her husband. Daniel looked…it was hard to describe. Relaxed? Stress-free? Peaceful? “Did you have a good time?” she asked trying to keep her voice level as she stood up to greet him.

Westin came over and gave her a hug. “It was…adequate.”

Kate pushed him away and looked into his blue eyes. The smile on his face said it had been more than…adequate. “Should I be expecting changes?”

Daniel looked at her puzzled.

“Should I expect divorce papers?” Kate asked bluntly.

Westin’s face lit with understanding. “Is this an ultimatum?” 

“And if it was?” Kate’s heart was in her throat.

Daniels eyes searched Kate’s and saw the worry there. “I gave him up before. I could do it again,” he admitted, he had not done it voluntarily nor easily but he could do it.

Kate hugged him tightly, tears in her eyes. “I love you, Daniel Westin. If he makes you happy he can move in with us,” she said making the ultimate sacrifice.

“Darling, I don’t think you have to worry about that.” Daniel said with amusement. Napoleon had been his past. Kate was his future. However, it would be nice to combine them both.

Just then, the door opened and Walter Carlton entered without knocking. “There you are, Daniel. If you two are finished with the kissy-kissy, we need to talk.”

The couple separated reluctantly and Kate, glad that Daniel was back, said, “I think I’ll go shopping and leave you two alone,” she went into the bedroom to retrieve her purse.

As she opened the door to exit, Carlton called to her. “Don’t go by yourself. Get that Contessa or whoever she is to go with you.”

Blowing a kiss to her husband Kate answered exasperatedly, “Yes, Walter.”

Westin turned to Carlton as the door closed behind Kate. “Can it wait until I've showered and changed?”

“Why would you need to shower?” Walter asked puzzled. It was the middle of the day.

Daniel froze, he couldn’t very well tell Carlton that he’d just come back from having wild and passionate sex with his former partner. A partner Carlton knew nothing about. A male partner at that. 

It had been fun teasing Napoleon, especially when Napoleon would come up for air and go back to what they had been doing only to find out that Westin wasn’t there any longer. Using his hands Napoleon would search the bed, finally finding him and holding on lest he lose him again. Daniel went and sat on the arm of the sofa. 

Carlton paced the room, not sure how to phrase what he had to say. He stopped in front of Westin and just came out with it, and then he left.

Daniel sat were he was for a few minutes looking at the closed door. Then he went to the phone and dialed a number from memory. “Napoleon? We need to talk.”

 

Daniel Westin was pacing the floor in Harry Rules flat, while Harry sat, a glass of scotch paused at his lips. “Someone could harm Kate.”

“And what about harming you?” Rule asked reasonably.

Westin waved the idea away. “I can always disappear, but not Kate. I will not let anything happen to her.”

“You really love her,” Rule stated softly.

Westin looked at his lover. “Yes.”

“She must be very special,” Rule said ruefully.

“She is,” Westin acknowledged. “I may love her, but I do enjoy messing around with you,” he admitted, a sparkle lighting his eyes.

Rule’s smile was understanding. “Illya, I promise she will be well protected. Paul and Caroline with take good care of her.” He set his glass on the end table and came behind his former partner. “It’s you I worry about.” His arms went around the blond scientist pulling his close. “I tell you what. I’ll put them on twenty-four hour protection service with Kate, and you and I will disappear,” he whispered into Westin’s ear.

Westin chuckled. “Where to, Napoleon?”

“Scotland,” Rule said before turning Westin to him and claiming his mouth.

 

Kate and the Contessa spent most of the morning shopping. They stopped for lunch at a fashionable restaurant. Kate flicked her napkin, placing it across her lap, before picking up the menu. As she scanned the menu, she asked nonchalantly, “Have you known Harry Rule long?”

The Contessa’s eyes under the brim of her hat were puzzled. “A few years.”

Kate folded her menu, crossed her arms atop it, and leaned closer conspiratorially. “What’s he like?”

Caroline laughed. “That’s a strange question. Why would you want to know?”

Kate, her American accent a contrast to the Contessa’s, tried for nonchalance. “Oh, no reason, I’m just curious.”

Caroline looked at her, her eyes narrowed. “There is more than idle curiosity involved. You know something.” She guessed, crossing her arms on the table and leaning closer. 

“I’m not sure. Perhaps.” Kate’s expression was thoughtful.

The waiter approached just then and the two women spent some time deciding what they wanted. When he left with their order, two heads were bent close, sharing secrets.

 

The two men were driving though the countryside, Rule doing the driving.

“I see you have finally learned to drive on the correct side of the road,” Westin teased.

“I have always known how to drive in England,” Rule replied in a superior way.

Westin looked doubtful, the few times they had been on assignment in Britain he had always ended up being the one driving.

Rule sent an affectionate glance to his former partner. “It was just easier to watch you if you did the driving,” he confessed. He stretched out his left hand, taking the Russian’s right hand in his, “Hey, this feels real!” he exclaimed as his thumb caressed the back of his lover’s hand.

“It should.” Westin smirked. “I do work for the Klae Corporation, after all. Are you going to tell me where we are going?” he asked, amused as Rule brought the palm of his hand to his lips. 

“No. I want it to be a surprise,” Rule said as he lowered the Russian's hand, still holding onto it. 

A frown lit the Russian’s face. “Napoleon, I am worried.”

“About Kate?”

“Yes.”

“Well don’t be. She is in the best of hands.”

There was no one he trusted more than Napoleon. Not even Walter Carlton, especially not Walter Carlton. Deep down the man was a mercenary. If Napoleon said Kate was safe, she was. That was good enough for him.

 

Nothing more could be gotten out of him, until he pulled into a private drive that ran for miles and coming to a stop in front of a castle. The two men left the car and walked up to a set of massive double doors. Pulling a bell cord that hung nearby, Westin turned to follow the deep sound of a bell. The door was open by what appeared to be a proper English butler. 

“Ah, Mr. Rule, please come in,” The butler said anxiously. “Mrs. McMillan has been asking after you.”

“Where is she, Boris?” Rule asked.

Westin caught Rule’s eye. “Boris?” he mouthed wordlessly.

Rule was barely able to hold back a smile as the butler said, “She is in the library, sir.”

“I know the way.” Rule said as he walked through the entryway and walked directly to another set of double doors to one side of a broad staircase. Opening both doors at one time, Rule entered a lavish library, the former Russian agent, now scientist, following. A woman, dark hair tied back with a black scarf, jumped up from her chair, a handkerchief to her mouth. She ran toward Rule, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh, Harry,” she sobbed, her Scottish brogue rolling the r’s in his name.

“Now, now,” Rule said, patting her on the back. “What is the problem, Sally? Your letter didn’t tell me much.”

Wiping her eyes with the handkerchief, she opened her mouth to inform him, then she noticed the smaller blond gentleman with him. She pulled back and drew herself up, ashamed of her lapse in manners.

Rule realizing what the problem was, performed the introductions. “Sally, this is an old friend of mine Il…er, Daniel Westin. Daniel, this is Mrs. Sally McMillan, owner of McMillan Castle.” 

Daniel stepped forward and gallantly took Sally’s hand, placing a kiss on the tips of her fingers.

Sally blushed. 

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said, before turning back to Harry. “There is just so much to tell, I not sure I know where to start. Let me show you to your room and you can rest before dinner? I will be able to tell you more then.” She took him by the arm leading him out the doorway and up the stairs, Westin tagging along behind.

Westin had barely been able to control the desire to roll his eyes, as he followed Napoleon and a woman going up the stairs, so reminiscent of old times.

Sally stopped at a door, opened it then stepped aside revealing a large lavishly furnished room, the main item being a large four poster bed, complete with curtains, plush rugs covering the stone floor and a fire lit in the fireplace. Their suitcases where already waiting for them. She turned to the man she had been introduced to as Daniel Westin. “I am so very sorry. We were not expecting you. I will have Boris fix a room for you right away.” Turning to Rule, she said, “I will have Boris announce dinner when it is ready, once you’ve had a chance to rest a bit.” She gave Rule a peck on the cheek before closing the door.

Westin eyed the bed, fingering the velvet curtains that surrounded it. “I suppose the days when we shared a room are long past?” 

“Just this once.” Harry's face reddening. “She doesn’t know…”

A tapping at the door and clearing of a throat was heard. Boris, standing just outside, apologized. “If the gentleman will follow me, I will take him to his room.” 

With a raised eyebrow, Westin picked up his suitcase to follow the butler.

Harry came out of the bathroom wearing a terrycloth robe, his bare feet chilled by the stone floor, a towel wiping his damp hair. He looked at the bed, noting a suspicious lump in the middle. “Illya?”

“Who were you expecting? Mrs. McMillan?” a voice asked from the center of the bed.

Dropping his robe, a lascivious smile on his face, Harry slid onto the bed. “Actually, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” He reached out and pulled an invisible body close. Closing his eyes made it all so much easier. He just let his hands do the talking. Running them up and down the invisible body was better if he wasn’t looking at what he could not see. He wondered if the body still looked the same as the last time he had seen it. 

“We really shouldn’t,” Rule murmured.

“You want to stop?” Westin’s voice asked.

“No.” Rule whispered, his mouth covering the invisible one.

Later a knock came to the door. A thoroughly depleted Rule called out, “Yes?”

“Mr. Rule? Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.” Boris’ voice came through the door. “Shall I return when it is ready?”

“Yes, thank you,” Rule said, sliding out of bed. He looked down at his body, sticky with the results of recent lovemaking. “Now I need another bath,” he said to no one in particular.

No one in particular answered, “Would you like some company?”

Rule smiled as he headed once again for the bathroom, pretty sure of an invisible body following him.

Fifteen minutes later Rule was again wearing a terrycloth robe and wiping his damp hair. Answering a knock at his door, he was not surprised to find Boris standing stiffly there. 

“Sir, I have tried to contact Mr. Westin to let him know dinner is ready, but I am unable to locate him.”

Rule watched as damp footprints exited the room, carefully going around Boris.

“Tell you what, Boris. I’ll tell him when I see him,” Rule consoled the butler as he shut the door, a mysterious smile on his face.

 

Harry Rule, followed by a fully visible Daniel Westin, entered the dining room where Mrs. McMillan already waited. Taking their seats, Rule asked, “Okay, Sally, what is the problem?”

Sally McMillan sat at the head of the table, formally dressed in a gown of black silk. In her hand she fiddled with a fork from the place setting. She didn’t say anything, waiting until Boris had served her guests and left the room. Putting the fork down and taking a deep breath, she turned her gaze toward Harry. “You will think I’ve gone mad.”

Harry looked at her startled. “Why would I think that.” 

“This castle…my home is…haunted,” Sally said in a rush.

Westin and Rule exchanged glances. 

“Of course it is,” Harry said with a smile. 

“I am quite serious, Harry,” Sally said desperate to be believed.

“Okay,” Harry said seriously. “What makes you think the castle is haunted?”

“At first it was little things. Things moving, items missing,” Sally said leaning forward anxious to be beleived.

“At first?” Westin interjected.

Turning toward Daniel in surprise, she had almost forgotten he was there, she continued, “Yes, at first. Then matters got worse.”

“In what way?” Rule asked, then he realized something. It wasn’t something he’d seen, but something he hadn’t seen, but not missed. That is until now. “Sally, where are the servants?”

“Gone. They’ve left. Every last one of them, scared away,” Sally said. “All except Boris, of course.”

“I do not understand,” Westin said turning a puzzled look to Rule. “Are not all castles haunted?”

“Most castles claim to be haunted,” Rule said emphasizing the word claim. “However, this castle is…what ten years old?” He turned to Sally questioning before turning back to Westin, “Not old enough to be actually haunted.”

“Ah,” Westin said, understanding.

“Will you help?” Sally begged.

“I’ll do what I can.” Rule assured her. “When did you first notice this…haunting?”

“A fortnight ago,” Sally said with relief.

“I know this is going to sound like a silly question. But do you have any enemies?” Westin asked.

“I should hope not, none that I am aware of at least,” Sally said, her brown eyes turned toward the blond man. “Everyone here has been so very nice, even though we aren’t originally from here.” Then she turned to Harry, puzzled. “It all seems to center around the library. First it was furniture moved a little this way or a little that way. Papers missing from the desk. Then one of the maids was attacked. That is when all the servants decided it was time to leave.”

“The library you say,” Harry said thoughtfully. Then coming to a decision he continued, “I tell you what. Why don’t we enjoy this meal and then my friend and I will come up with a plan of action.”

“Oh, Harry,” Sally said joyfully, her appetite returning. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Later in the evening the two men retired to the library. Westin looked through the wide assortment of books. “They have a rather extensive collection of books on the Loch Ness Monster,” he noted. 

“Yes, Sally’s husband was obsessed with Nessie.” Harry said as he poured them each a drink and pointed to the picture on the desk. “That’s why he had this castle built here.”

“Just how did you meet…thank you,” Daniel said as he took the drink Harry offered. “How did you meet Mrs. McMillan?” 

“Sally’s husband was Angus McMillan, with MI6. He was the one who came up with the idea of forming the Protectors.” Rule set about systematically searching the room. 

“I take it he is no longer alive?” Daniel asked.

Rule nodded. “He was a good many years older than Sally.”

“Do you think this could have anything to do with his…profession?”

“I sincerely doubt it. If it had, something would have been tried earlier.”

“Really, Nap…” he didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Rule’s hand was covering his mouth. 

Taking his hand away and bringing it to his lips in a hush motion, Rule brought Westin’s attention to a lamp near the tray of liqueur. On the back of the lamp was an electronic bug. 

Westin nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Really, after that wonderful meal I think I need a nap,” Daniel said covering his earlier lapse.

“Me too.” Rule agreed giving an exaggerated yawn. “Why don’t we turn in?” He pantomimed Westin removing his mask, as he turned off the lights, went to the library door and shut it rather loudly.

Westin nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. He quickly and efficiently removed his mask and clothing becoming invisible. No matter how often in recent times Rule saw it, it never failed to astonish him. Hiding behind the curtains, all he could do was wait.

At the stroke of midnight, one of the bookcases swung open. Two men entered the library. “It tas got ta be aroun here sumwhere,” a Scottish brogue proclaimed.

“Exactly what has to be here?” Rule asked as he came from behind the curtain, his gun drawn. 

“I thought you said everyone was in bed?” the other man accused, looking at his associate, as both men raised their arms in surrender.

“Now why don’t we just all take a seat and you can explain exactly what you are looking for,” Rule ordered.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Rule,” a voice spoke from behind him. A hand reached over his shoulder to remove the gun from his fist. With a growl, Rule turned around to find Boris standing there holding a gun on him. “Where is Mr. Westin?” Boris asked, his eyes searching around the room.

“As you can see, he’s not here,” Rule said as he raised his hands to his head. Where was the devious Russian?

“What do we do with him?” asked one of the culprits.

“We take him with us,” Boris said, pointing his gun toward the secret passage behind the bookcase, indicating that Rule should enter.

Westin woke up just as one of the men was about to sit on him. He’d stretched out on the leather sofa, the exercise of the afternoon combined with the wine and excellent meal, putting him to sleep. Hearing Boris say they would take Napoleon with them, he quietly got up and followed.

As they went through the secret passage, they descended a stairway that ran under the house. “Just what is it you were looking for?” Rule asked, his voice echoing loudly in the tunnel. “And why did you bother scaring away the servants?”

“Quiet, you,” one of the men whispered. “It’s none of your business.”

“I don’t see what the harm would be in telling him,” Boris said quietly. “he is not going to get a chance to tell anyone.” His gun poked Rule in the back. “Mr. McMillan had come across a map, one that showed a Viking ship on the bottom of Loch Ness.”

Rule stopped suddenly, turning an astonished stare on Boris. “You did all this…for a map?”

Boris jabbed him in the back encouraging him to proceed. 

“I don’t understand. Why scare away the servants?” Harry asked.

“They never let me alone,” Boris complained. “No matter where I went, someone was always there.”

“Must have been your charm,” Rule muttered.

They finally reached the end of the tunnel, a rocky exit that lead to Loch Ness.

“Whacha planin to do wit him.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Rule is going to meet an unfortunate end with the Loch Ness monster,” Boris explained.

“Now wait a minute here,” the other man said. “Scaring the servants was one thing, murder quite another. You can count me out,” he continued as he turned away.

“Me too,” said the first man, turning to follow his partner.

“That’s too bad,” Boris muttered as he brought his gun up and shot both men in the back. 

Shivering from the coldness of the tunnel, Daniel hurried toward the end when he heard the sound of gunshots, his bare feet not making a sound, relieved when he saw Napoleon still alive. Napoleon was currently under the trained eye of Boris who rolled the two crooks into the lake. Walking carefully to avoid sharp rocks, Daniel followed as Boris motioned with his gun for Napoleon to get into a small boat.

Rule felt the craft tilt, and hoped that it indicated that his former partner was now aboard. He wondered what Illya was waiting for. Then he remembered that the Russian was undoubtedly nude and without a weapon. He hoped Illya would manage to do something before Boris shot him.

The craft sped away toward the middle of the Loch. Boris stood up aiming his gun at his victim. Before he could fire however, a large snake like head appeared at the side of the boat. The body attached to it rocking the craft, causing both Rule and Boris to fly out of the boat. Daniel clung to the side of the boat, watching in amazement as the small head reached down and engulfed Boris, swallowing him whole. The next thing he knew the whole creature had dived back into the depths of the loch. Westin's eyes searched for signs of a dark head in the choppy water. “Napoleon,” he groaned.

He was still in a state of shock when Rule’s head appeared to the side of the boat, sputtering. Hurriedly he pulled the American into the tiny craft, laying him flat on the bottom of the boat. 

Rule, gasping for air, was not sure exactly what he’d seen. Feeling the weight of someone on him, he closed his eyes, breathing in Illya’s scent. “Need…mouth to mouth…resuscitation,” he gasped.

Westin smiled, happy to comply. He plastered himself along Rule’s wet body, their mouths locked together, enjoying the feeling of his ex-partner's hands down his back, cupping his cheeks. It was with great reluctance that he pulled away. “I think we should leave before your little friend comes back, don’t you?” 

Rule couldn’t do anything but nod, lying flat on the bottom of the boat, his wet hair hanging in his face, and his clothing soaking wet from his dunking. He watched in fascination as the oars in the boat rose of their own accord and slipped into the water. “Why not…use…motor?” he gasped.

“Nessie may not like it.” Floated to him as the oars moved, silently taking the boat back the way to the stone entrance to the cave. Vertigo hit him and he closed his eyes. He felt the boat bump when it touched the shoreline, tilt as his friend left the boat, mooring it, then tilt again as he climbed back in. He opened his eyes, invisible hands, pulled him up, an invisible shoulder under his armpit, guided him away from the boat, up the rocky slope, into the tunnel. 

His mind a swirl of haze, he used one hand, to help balance himself against the stone walls of the tunnel. Then he let himself be led down it and up the stone stairs, through the library entrance, up stairs to the bedroom. Invisible hands swiftly removed his wet clothing, pushing him down upon the bed. His eyes closed again as exhaustion took over.

Soon a soft towel was drying up his drenched body, followed by a warm mouth covering the same territory. He relaxed even as his arousal coursed through him, a wet warm cavern enveloping his rigid erection, his hips pushing up in time with the suction, about ready to explode. 

Suddenly he was bereft and moaning his frustration. He loosened the grip he had on the bed sheets, growling in anguish. He felt, rather than saw, a weight leaving the bed. Soon however, a jar that he recognized was floating toward him. Rule pulled his legs up, his soles flat on the sheet, spreading his thighs in eager anticipation. The bed tilted again, and the jar opened of its own accord, he could imagine the fingers dipping in. 

Rule closed his eyes anticipating the next step. Cool jelled fingers entered him as a warm mouth once again covered his aching cock. The sensations were indescribable. It had been so long. Soon he exploded, his ejaculation gushing forth and being swallowed just as quickly, his inner muscles clinching around the fingers inside him as he rode out his orgasm. Once the tremors subsided, the fingers retreated to be replaced with a thicker pressure. Had Illya really been that huge, he thought as he felt the shaft entering him, or had it just been so long since he’d had the chance to enjoy this? His arms spread wide; he gripped the sheets, as he road out his friend’s possession of him, taking him to heights he had long since forgotten.

 

The next morning Sally McMillan , much put out, sat at the dining table reading the morning paper. She’d gotten up to find the house virtually deserted. She had even had to fix breakfast herself. She looked up as the two men entered the dining area, her eyes going from the blond, presently serving himself from the buffet, to the picture on the front page of the paper.

“You’re…you’re…,” she managed to sputter, pointing first at Westin then at the paper in her hand.

Harry came around and plucked the paper from her fingers, reading the front page, before passing it to Daniel. His plan had succeeded and all was well. Sally was looking at him, her eyes questioning. Daniel was absorbed in reading the front page, on which his photo figured prominently. Sitting down and moving a napkin to his lap, Rule picked up a fork before turning to Mrs. McMillan. “Sally dear, I’m afraid you are going to need a new butler.”

Mrs. McMillan looked away, her expression total confusion. Oh well, he’d explain it all eventually she assumed. 

Daniel sat down slowly, taking in everything the paper relayed. The supposed disappearance of Daniel Westin, the attempted kidnapping of his wife Kate, the trapping and arrest of several foreign agents was front page news. Very Machiavellian, and so very Napoleon Soloish. He folded the paper and sat down, looking across the table at the dark-haired man. Rule had an insufferable pleased look on his face as he ate his breakfast. 

“Why don’t you call Kate and let her know you’re okay,” Rule said softly.

Nodding, Westin stood up and made his way to the nearest phone, strangely pleased with the American’s thoughtfulness.

 

The next evening the two men stood together at Heathrow Airport saying goodbye. Kate Westin moved close to her husband, clinging to his arm. “Thank you so much, Mr. Rule…Harry. If you are ever out our way…” She left the rest unfinished, her eyes saying he would always be welcomed. 

“It has been a pleasure meeting you, Kate,” Rule said as he took her hand in both of his. “Daniel, you’re a lucky man.”

Westin looked down at his wife, then at the man who was more than just a friend. “Yes, I guess I am.” Hoping that Napoleon would understand how he meant it. 

Rule nodded his understanding and reached out to shake Westin’s hand. Their private goodbyes had been said earlier. 

“Come on, you guys,” Carlton chided. “If we don’t hurry we will miss our plane.”

Rule, his hands in his pockets, stood watching as the three headed for the plane that would take them back to the states, a sadness creeping over him. Suddenly he felt someone clinging to his arm. He looked down to find the Contessa holding on to him, much the same way Kate had held on to Illya. Caroline looked up from under her wide brim hat, her eyes understanding. Paul Buchet moved to the other side of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Sure he would miss his old partner, but he wasn’t alone. Placing a kiss on an upturned cheek, he gave a warm smile to Paul. “Let’s go, shall we.” No. He was not alone.

The End.


End file.
